


Accipere quam facere praestat iniuriam ["It is better to suffer an injustice than to do an injustice"]

by Tommykaine



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bad Ending, Blood and Violence, Burns, Challenge Response, Eye Trauma, Fantasy, Goblins, High Fantasy, M/M, Magic, Temporary Character Death, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:27:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28163169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommykaine/pseuds/Tommykaine
Summary: The prophecy had always been clear. Only the True Hero, the one chosen by the Gods to be the champion for his people and use his powers to protect them, was the one who could destroy the Seal and once again unleash the Darkness upon the Lands. He was the key to the salvation and at the same time to the complete destruction of his kingdom. The key to allow the Dark One to rise again, to bring back the one that Meredith had sworn to serve for all eternity.---The villain Lord Meredith has managed to capture the hero, and plans to torment him until he will give up and be forced to betray his people.Will Bran's stubbornness and heroic courage prevail, or will his enemy manage to break his resolve?
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5
Collections: COWT - Clash Of the Writing Titans/Chronicles Of Words and Trials





	Accipere quam facere praestat iniuriam ["It is better to suffer an injustice than to do an injustice"]

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the COWT challenge, using the prompt "Accipere quam facere praestat iniuriam" (latin quote meaning "It is better to suffer an injustice than to do an injustice")
> 
> This work also participates to the Banned Bingo using the prompt "Torture".  
> 
> 
> If you'd like to have a look, I now have a website: [LINK](http://www.tommykaine.com/). I will post some exclusive stories on there so be sure to check it out from time to time! And if you join my mailing list ([X](https://www.tommykaine.com/mailing-list)) you can access some exclusive stories (for free).

Meredith was walking back and forth in his room, frustrated and annoyed.

He didn't understand. He had done all he could think of, all that would usually be enough to break the resolve of his prisoners, and yet nothing.

He knew of course that the hero was known to be brave and strong-willed. He hadn't expected it to be easy. But it had been months, months since he'd been captured, yet the human would not budge. He would not give up and agree to break the Seal, much less reveal the way for it to be broken without his help.

Not like that would be possible. The prophecy had always been clear. Only the True Hero, the one chosen by the Gods to be the champion for his people and use his powers to protect them, was the one who could destroy the Seal and once again unleash the Darkness upon the Lands. He was the key to the salvation and at the same time to the complete destruction of his kingdom. The key to allow the Dark One to rise again, to bring back the one that Meredith had sworn to serve for all eternity.

And he didn't have much time left. His powers were not limitless, and since the Dark One had been sealed away they had started to weaken. Now he was merely a shadow of the one he was before. If he could not awaken his Master soon, then he would be nothing but a powerless man again.

“My Lord, if I may step in…”

Meredith turned towards the door, grunting in annoyance. He hadn't even realized that he'd left it open.

Peeking from the entrance was the green face of Kil, one of the goblins at his service.

Holding back a defeated sigh, Meredith walked up to him, towering over him. He grinned as he saw a glimpse of fear in the goblin's brown eyes. That was what he wanted to see. Fear, respect, obedience. It was usually so easy… still, there had to be a way to get the hero to bend to his will.

“Speak, vermin. Be warned that my patience is low at the moment, so it better be important!”

Kil swallowed hard, lowering his gaze towards the ground.

“My Lord… the mage, the one we captured yesterday,” the goblin said. “He gave up right away, wanted to save his own life. And he said if we spare him, he'll tell us how to make the human obey too.”

Meredith's red eyes lit up with interest. He grabbed the goblin by the hem of his shirt, pulling him up in the air until he was face to face with him. The pathetic creature squealed in fear and surprise, his long ears lowered and his whole body trembled.

Meredith grinned, showing off his fangs.

“Bring him to me at once.”

_~~~ several months earlier ~~~_

Bran had woken up in a cold cell. His head hurt, and he was feeling nauseous. The last thing he remembered was the battle, he'd been fighting against an orc when suddenly he'd been struck by a small arrow. It hadn't seemed serious at first, but as he'd kept fighting his movements had gotten sluggish, his vision blurring up and his ears ringing. _A poisoned arrow_ , he had realized, moments before the orc managed to hit him hard enough to send him flying, his head hitting the ground, and then nothing.

He was surprised he was still alive. He tried to get up, although the nauseous feeling only got worse as he did so. His hands were cuffed together, and his legs were cuffed to the wall with a long chain, allowing him to walk a little, though he quickly chose to sit down and try to wait for the feeling to pass.

He wondered how long he'd been there for. If the poison was still in his system then he couldn't have been sleeping for long. He also wondered what happened to the others, were they alright? He couldn't see anyone else in the cell with him, so hopefully he'd been the only one who was captured.

And hopefully not because everyone else was already dead.

He shook his head. He couldn't let his thoughts darken, he had to have hope!

To begin with, the fact that he was still alive meant he might be able to escape. The first thing to do was to rest and fully recover, then he would try to see if there was anything in there he could use to his advantage.

That was exactly what he did, once he woke up again and the world was no longer spinning anytime he moved his head too fast. Unfortunately, it seemed there was nothing there that he could use. The only things he could see were a chamber pot within his reach and a few bones that were too far for him to be able to pick up even if he'd wanted to touch such things and use them as a weapon somehow, which he did not. He tried not to let that discovery get to his nerves. He would get out of there before he could end up like that, he was sure.

He sat back down, resolving to conserve his energy. Eventually, someone was bound to come there, at least to bring him food or to check if he'd relieved himself. And then he would try to get some answers.

It took so long that Bran almost fell asleep again, not having anything else to do besides looking around and trying not to obsess about the battle. When he heard the footsteps come closer he immediately got up, standing up straight to face whoever was that had trapped him there.

“Slept well, hero?” a sarcastic voice asked as the figure stepped out of the darkness, the torches near the door illuminating the all too familiar figure of Lord Meredith – the villain he'd been fighting against that whole time. There was no mistaking it, the pale tall man with black robes and red eyes was the same one who had killed his family when he was just a child. The same one he'd sworn to kill, one day, so that he could avenge them.

"You!" Bran hissed, staring up at him with disdain. “Why did you put me in here? What happened to my friends?! Are they alive? If you bastards touched them-”

A strong gush of energy threw him against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. Bran gasped and collapsed, falling down on his knees before he struggled to get back up again.

“Silence! You don't have a right to ask questions. You're merely a prisoner. You should be thankful you're not dead yet.”

Bran narrowed his eyes at him. “If you think keeping me here will change anything you're wrong. My friends will destroy your armies. All the kingdoms are uniting against you. You won't be able to win, so you better give up now!”

“Here's where you're wrong, hero. I'll crush your friends, your soldiers, every single one of the pathetic forces you've worked so hard to gather. And you'll be the one to help me.”

Bran scoffed. “You must be crazy, stupid or both things if you think I would ever help you.”

“Oh, but you will,” Lord Meredith said, letting out a small, cruel laugh. “Sooner or later you will break, hero. And then, you will do something for me. A little thing, really. All you have to do is to destroy the Seal that's keeping my Master from rising up again, and then you will be granted mercy.”

Bran's green eyes widened. So that was why he'd been brought there! But if the villain thought he would just do as he wished, well, did he have news for him!

He laughed too, mostly out of disbelief that the man, the _monster_ would truly think he would ever help him

“I will never break the Seal and condemn all of the Lands to the Darkness. No matter what you do to me, no matter how hard you try, I will never do what you want!”

“I was hoping you would say that,” Lord Meredith replied, his red eyes glinting in amusement. “I can't wait to watch you beg on your knees, hero.”

“That will never happen!”

“We'll see, hero, we'll see...”

The villain left with another laugh, his long cape swishing behind him as he walked away.

Despite his brave words, Bran couldn't help but feel scared. He knew the man was dead serious. Lord Meredith truly intended to do anything in his power to make him break. And he was scared to find out what that would mean.

A couple days later, Lord Meredith visited him again.

“Oh my, you're not looking too good, hero,” he commented, his lips twisted into a sadistic grin.

Bran glared at him. His body was covered in bruises and whip marks. The evil goblins that served under the man's rule had visited him and started torturing him, first by beating him up when he tried to escape, then by tying him up and whipping him all over. The first day he'd been fed, if the vile slop that was left in his cell in a dirty metal bowl could even be called food, but the next two he'd barely been given water. One of those times it had been poured over his head instead, while the goblins laughed and jeered at him.

“Do you feel like cooperating yet?”

As a response, Bran only spat in his direction.

Lord Meredith let out a dramatic sigh.

“I see. Well, it's time we get serious.”

He snapped his fingers, and a small crowd of goblins approached the cage. Bran couldn't help but pale as he saw that three of them were carrying a short metal pot full of burning embers, and a variety of metal poles. The pot was placed inside his cell, the metal poles stuck in the burning mass, and Bran couldn't help but shiver in fear.

Lord Meredith laughed.

“What's the matter? Changed your mind already?”

Bran glared at him. "Never".

“Well then... Irk, Gol, Muk, Zob, Kiv, he's all yours!”

The goblins laughed and rushed towards the hero, who struggled and tried to push them off, but it was useless. Even if those creatures were not too strong, when they attacked together they were a more fearsome adversary than one might expect from such a small race.

Bran soon found himself tied up, his clothes pulled off of him leaving him in the nude. Even so, he didn't lower his eyes in shame but rather glared at all of them, wriggling to try and get out of the ropes or at least to make things harder for his tormentors.

“Oooh, so scary!” one of the evil things laughed at him. Then it went to pick up one of the metal poles, and pressed it against Bran's cheek.

“AAH!”

He couldn't help but scream in pain, his burning flesh sizzling as the goblin laughed and kept pressing the incandescent metal against his face. Bran tried to turn his head away but quickly regretted it as that only caused the burnt flesh to be ripped away painfully, making him cry out even louder.

Another goblin pressed one of the burning poles against his side, and then another was pressed against the soft, sensitive flesh of his inner thighs. Bran screamed and cursed, his struggling growing more frantic, all the whole the devious beasts kept laughing and tormenting him further.

One of the poles was pressed into the sole of his feet, making him arch up as the pain seemed to shot up through his whole body. Another one was pressed into his bicep, causing his whole arm to spasm from the pain.

“Fuck you! You monsters! You ugly beasts!” he yelled, but that only seemed to make them laugh even harder.

“You monsters, you ugly beasts, bohoo!” one of the goblins mimicked his voice, before sticking his burning pole into Bran's left eye.

He screamed and screamed, and even cried and sobbed even if he hated to show such weakness in front of his enemy. The sound and the smell were just as horrible as the pain, and the pain was worse than anything he'd ever experienced before.

“Now, now, don't overdo it,” Lord Meredith warned, although his voice was more amused than angry. “If you take away his eyes, he won't be able to enjoy the show once we destroy his kingdom, and all thanks to his help.”

“You'd... wish,” Bran growled, although he knew he sounded more pathetic than threatening in that moment.

Lord Meredith chuckled.

“I think I'll leave you guys alone for a while... let's see how you'll feel about it in a few hours!”

And, with that, he turned around and left him in the mercy of the sadistic green monsters, as Bran's screams of pain echoed in the dungeon and the smell of burning flesh filled the air.

He was left alone for a week, allowing for his wounds to start healing. He was fed potions and had salves slathered on them to speed up the process. However, his injured eye was gone. He didn't know if that was because the villain didn't have a potion to restore it, or if he chose not to in order to make his suffering worse.

After that week, the goblins came again to torment him, whipping him until he was bleeding all over. Then, they poured salt over his wounds until he screamed so hard that his throat was hoarse and he no longer had the voice to scream anymore.

A few days later Lord Meredith was back.

“Have you thought about it, hero?” he asked. “Would you like me to offer you freedom, and a place in my ranks?”

“Fuck you, you monster,” Bran had replied, prompting the taller man to sigh theatrically and call for his goblins again.

“I think maybe you should try something more... personal,” Lord Meredith suggested with a devious grin. Something in the way he said it made a cold shiver run down Bran's spine.

Soon enough, he realized what the man had meant as, after pulling off his already torn-up clothes and tying him up, the horrible creatures started undressing and pulled out their disproportionately huge cocks.

“No,” he whispered, unable to believe it at first. They couldn't possibly... he'd heard stories of it but he thought it was just awful tales made up to make the enemy seem even more fearsome. They couldn't actually be meaning to do something like that to him, could they?

“Thank you, my lord!” the beasts snickered, approaching the tied-up hero and rubbing their cocks against his skin.

“Get off me, you beasts!” Bran growled, but his anger was tinged with fear. He'd never lain with anyone before, his mission occupying his thoughts, and his heart belonged to the princess of the reign even if he knew she could never be with a commoner like him. To have his first taken by such horrible creatures... a part of him wanted to beg them to stop, to tell Lord Meredith he would do anything, anything but that, but he knew he couldn't. To do that would mean to sacrifice his kingdom, his people, the entire Lands to save himself. His virtue was not worth such a sacrifice.

So, he gritted his teeth and tried not to look, not to think about the disgusting appendages, already wet with precum.

Even as one of the creatures climbed up behind him and started rubbing himself between Bran's buttocks, making his heart still in fear for a moment. Even so, he clenched his fists and braced himself, and as he felt it push he closed his eye and tried not to cry out, tried not to yell as he felt it spread him open, inch after inch spearing him and impaling him on the inhumanly big length.

“Oh, what an awful spectacle,” Lord Meredith said, his tone full of mockery. “I wonder what the dear princess would say if she could see you now?”

“Don't speak of her!” Bran snapped, wishing for his voice not to be shaking so much, for his pain not to be showing, but as the goblin fucked him roughly he couldn't stop himself for crying out loud, and he couldn't stop the tears that were rolling down his cheek.

“If I ever get a hold of her, I'll make sure she sees what has become of her prized hero,” Lord Meredith threatened, filling Bran's heart with fear.

He tried to tell himself it was just an empty threat, but even so the combination of that and the humiliation of having the goblin's filthy cocks rubbed all over him, their disgusting fluids covering every inch of his body, was too much for him to bear. He could not stop sobbing and gasping and screaming in fear as the goblins violated him.

Even when the one who was fucking his ass came, his place was immediately taken by another. Meanwhile, one of them rubbed his cock against his face, trying to get him to take it in his mouth. Of course, Bran kept his lips shut. However, when his nose was pinched he could only last so long before he had to open his mouth to breathe, and that was when the bastard slipped his cock in and started thrusting right away.

At least until Bran bit down hard, almost severing the vile thing with his teeth before the goblin managed to get him to let go and wobbled away, whining loudly while the other ones laughed.

“Ahahah, stupid Muk!” the one that was still fucking Bran's ass remarked, picking up his pace. “The pretty human bites! Ahahah!”

Then the freak came inside him, filling him up with his seed. Some of it flowed out once he pulled out, the slickness easing up the insertion for the next goblin. And one after another they all fucked him, leaving him aching and humiliated, his belly swelling up from the large amount of goblin cum that had been pumped inside him.

Once they all were done, the hero was finally untied before the goblins left, with the one who had tried to fuck his mouth kicking him hard in the sides and stomping on his crotch until he curled up on himself and threw up on the floor.

The poor hero was left there like that, knowing that he was offering a pathetic spectacle for sure. He was glad no one of his friends was there to see him, he didn't know how he would be able to face any of them after that horrible humiliation.

Only Lord Meredith was there, and he walked up to him, crouching down next to him and smirking widely.

“So, what do you say?” he asked, grasping on Bran's soiled hair and forcing him to look up at him. “Did you enjoy playing with my goblins? Maybe this role suits you better. In fact, I think you should become their cumdump. Though, if you wanted to change your mind and break the Seal for me...”

Bran glared up at him, forcing himself to muster up as much hatred and bravery as he could as he responded.

“I'd rather let those filthy beasts have their way with me every day than help you!”

“Well, if you're not going to help me, at least you can entertain my underlings,” Lord Meredith remarked. “Maybe next week I'll let the orcs have a go at you!”

And, with one last cruel laugh, he turned around and once again left him alone in his cell.

Once he was finally alone, the hero curled up on himself and wept. He knew that was just the start of his nightmare, and there would be far worse horrors to come. And he knew he could do nothing to stop them, he had no choice, for he could not, would not betray his people. He just had to bear and grin it for... however long his torment would last.

Bran didn't know how long it would take, but he had to hold on. Surely, one of those days help would come, or he would find a way to escape.

He just had to hold on until then.

~~~  
***  
~~~

Several months had passed since he'd been captured. He only knew this because Lord Meredith kept telling him, sometimes giving him updates on how many of Bran's people had died while he was not there to help them.

Bran did not know when death would come, but he imagined it would not be much longer.

He was starving, he was weak, every part of his body ached from the tortures he had been forced to endure every day. He could barely sleep, if not for the pain keeping him up then because of the nightmares that haunted him whenever he closed his eye. He was sure that Lord Meredith had a hand in that, sending his Incubi to torment him so that he could have no solace.

He was not sure why he was still holding on. Maybe because he still hoped, prayed for the Gods to send him a helping hand, or even just a sign, anything that meant his mission was not over.

Still, as long as he could ensure the Seal was not broken, it would not matter if he died. As long as he could stop the Dark One from rising, his kingdom would be safe.

Surely the Gods would find another way to protect it from Lord Meredith's forces, maybe a new hero would have to take his place. There was no mention of such a thing in the prophecy, but surely they would not allow the forces of evil to triumph. There had to be a way, either for him to be freed or for someone else to take his place.

He was just musing on that, when he heard the sound of footsteps echoing in the dungeon.

Bran couldn't help but shiver in fear, his heart beating fast. What sort of torment would be subjected to, that day?

Once they were close enough, Bran realized it was two people. He could recognize Lord Meredith's footsteps, after all that time the memory of that sound had been imprinted in his brain. But the second set was unknown, although not completely unfamiliar.

Finally, a few moments later two figures approached his cell. The tall, menacing one of Lord Meredith and-

“Ianto!” Bran called out, his voice hoarse from all the screaming.

The young mage wasn't looking at him, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of shame and resignation. Bran felt a cold chill run down his spine. He could see the bruises and cuts on his face, and he'd seen him limp on his way there. There was no mistaking it, he must have been tortured.

“Ianto...what's going on!?” he insisted, but then Lord Meredith slammed his hand against the bars.

“SILENCE!” he roared, and despite everything Bran couldn't help but recoil. Still, once he looked up into the villain's red eyes there was no fear in his green one, only determination and anger.

“What have you done to him, you bastard?” Bran asked, narrowing his eye and attempting to stand up, only to fall down on his knees with a grimace. His feet had been mangled so much it hurt too much to put any weight on them. “What have you done to my friend?”

“Your friend?” Lord Meredith asked, in his voice a clear note of derision. “Your dear _friend_ here has proven not to be as foolish as to suffer for no reason. In fact, he has promised to help me. Maybe you should follow his example.”

Bran looked at Ianto, his eye widening in shock.

“Ianto, tell me that he is lying? No… how could you?!”

“I had no choice!” the mage snapped, turning to look at him as his eyes started to water. “I have to save my sister! I'm the only who can take care of her! If I die, no one will be able to save her!”

“You would betray your people? Your friends?” Bran asked, feeling his anger rise up even if he knew how much Ianto cared for Tegan. How her curse, her illness was the sole reason why he had studied magic.

“Shut up! You couldn't possibly understand... you don't have a family out there to take care of! You don't have anyone, no one but yourself and your fucking mission... you never cared about anything else, anyone else!” Ianto snapped back.

Bran gasped. Even Ianto seemed ashamed of his own words, but before they could continue Lord Meredith stepped in.

“So? Will you show me the reason why I've kept you alive, or are you going to keep wasting my time?” he growled.

“I-I will do it, my Lord” Ianto replied, visibly cringing at his own words.

As angry as Bran was with him, most of his anger was directed at the villain that had turned the mage against him. He was going to make him pay for that, sooner or later. And if not him, he was sure the rest of their friends would not stand idly why they were kept captive by their enemy.

Lord Meredith gestured towards the door, opening it with his own magic, and Ianto stepped inside.

“I... I will need his blood,” Ianto murmured, and the villain chuckled.

“Not a problem!”

He walked up to Bran, who immediately struggled against the chains that held him in place, but no matter how hard he tried he knew he could not get away. The villain only laughed, grasping on his arm and taking out a sharp dagger.

The hero trembled, remembering the many times it had been used on him before. His arm was already covered in cuts and burns, but the blade still easily sliced his skin open and caused the blood to flow out in copious amounts, dripping down on the stone floor.

Ianto used the blood to draw a circle and some unknown formula, telling Lord Meredith to push the hero in the middle of it, then he started chanting.

The circle was glowing, Bran could feel the magic vibrating all around him, his hairs standing up all over his body. He tried to struggle again, tried to ask Ianto what he was doing, but Lord Meredith slapped him harshly every time he tried to speak.

Ianto lifted his hands, glowing vines shooting out from the circle and wrapping all around Bran's body, burning like molten metal. The hero screamed in pain, and Lord Meredith laughed.

Finally, Ianto turned to him and held out his hand.

“T-the knife...”

Lord Meredith grinned widely, handing it over to him.

“With pleasure.”

Bran didn't know what was happening, the pain so overwhelming he could barely stay conscious, and at the same time so intense it prevented him from passing out.

When the mage Ianto, the one he thought of as his friend, lifted his hand and prepared to strike him, Bran didn't close his eye nor looked away. Ianto was going to have to look at him in his eyes as he killed him if he had the guts to do it.

And there was hesitation in those blue eyes, there was fear, but eventually the blade hit Bran straight into his heart and that was it, his last moment before the darkness enveloped him, before his eye closed forever.

Bran woke up screaming, his whole body shivering and covered in sweat.

At first he thought it had been another nightmare, but when he opened his eyes again he saw Lord Meredith and Ianto in front of him.

He looked around, confused. He felt... different.

It took him a long time to realize, it was because his body was no longer hurting.

As he looked down at it, touching himself all over and even pulling his tattered clothes aside to look closely, he realized that all of the marks, all of the signs left from the endless tortures had disappeared. As if he'd never been touched. Not even the old scars from battle were left. And his eyes... _both_ of his eyes were working.

“What did you do?!” he screamed at Ianto, but it was Lord Meredith who responded.

“It's an ancient and forbidden spell... or rather, a curse,” he said, lips curved up into a large smirk. “From now on, even if you're tortured until death, your soul will not be able to leave your body and you will be restored to normal with just a small blood sacrifice. No matter how badly you're hurt, from now on I can do anything to you, and you will not die!”

The villain laughed and laughed, while Ianto was crying. As for Bran, he was staring up at them in horror, realizing what that meant, realizing his horror might never have an end.

“Let's see how long you'll be able to hold on, young hero!” Lord Meredith said, placing a hand on Ianto's shoulder to guide him outside. “Sooner or later you will break, even if it takes a hundred - no, a _thousand_ lifetimes!”

As the villain left with one last cruel laugh, locking the cell behind him, Bran curled up on himself and wept.

He would be trapped like there, forever, or at least for as long as he didn't break and submit to Lord Meredith's will.

But he couldn't do it. He never would.

Because in his heart, in his heart Bran was sure he would never be able to let his people be hurt so that he could be freed, no matter how long he would have to suffer. Even if he could be freed, even if the villain really would keep his word, how could he live on knowing he had plunged the kingdom into eternal Darkness?

It was better to suffer injustice, even an eternal, never-ending injustice, than to be the cause of such a great one.


End file.
